Of all the things Ventus and his family had expected to catch when going on their nightly hunt for creatures of Darkness, this was… clearly not it.

Usually, in the depths of the lands surrounding their home, they only encountered mindless creatures that they’d either catch and restrain to study, or slay on the spot because of the danger they posed to the world.

But this one was clearly different.

It had viciously fought back, kicking and clawing and hiding in the shadows, but a precise hit from Ventus’ master, Eraqus, had been enough to knock it out. The creature looked surprisingly anthropomorphic, more than its kind usually did, but was clearly not human. Coal-black skin, fingers tipped with claws, talons for feet, a tail tipped by a strange shape, but that wasn’t really what caught their attention.

Under the shadows that composed its body, on its arms and calves, peeked occasional flashes of white and pale beige – so very similar to human skin, melting back to shade in the blink of an eye.

But the weirdest part was its head. A bit below the collarbone, the shadows split, like a strange, shadowy version of the neckline of a mundane shirt. Above that, just like the little flashes of skin below, was all something that could easily be thought of as human. Pale ivory skin, the sharp lines of a face, a mess of black hair that looked like a nightmare to tame…

But in the midst of that almost-humanity, two striking gold eyes, the mark of a creature of shadows, glared at Ventus from the corner of the basement cell where it had been locked, curled up with arms wound tight around its knees.

Ventus had tried talking to it, unlike his siblings and his master, but that had availed to naught. The only response from the creature had been to glare harder and lower its head, bringing what little shadows it could get in the brightly lit cell lower, like an attempt at intimidation.

“Can you even understand me?” Ventus had asked meekly, after a few other attempts at communication. The creature was clearly intelligent, even though it was feral – it had never cut eye contact (didn’t even blink at all), had attempted to pry open the door of the cell by slipping its claws between it and the wall, tried anything to hide away from the harsh glare of the light, but nothing had worked.

Once more getting no answer, Ventus gave up for the day. He was in charge of watching it until they’d send it away for analysis, two weeks from now – he’d never see it again, and Eraqus and his pupils would go on to hunt more creatures and protect the population.

Still, Ventus wanted to know what hid behind those intelligent gold eyes.

Ventus spent three whole days talking the creature’s pointy ears off.

He’d clearly managed to annoy it by never shutting up, irritation growing evident by the occasional twitch of an eyelid, the rasp of its tail along the floor, or the nearly mechanical way it’d tap its claws against its knees.

“-and that’s why my parents named me Ventus!” He continued. “I’m curious, actually, what’s your name? You’re clearly kind of smart, maybe you have parents too? Wait, no, your kind is born from shadows and negativity… Actually, you know what, nevermind-“

And finally, for the first time, Ventus got an answer. In the form of broken visual contact and a clear roll of the creature’s eyes.

Ventus could’ve been annoyed, but he couldn’t help his grin. Success! It could definitely understand him. And it had responded to his words! Even if it was rude.

“I knew you could understand me!” he exclaimed. “So, do you have a name? Since I told you mine, it’d be nice to know yours!”

There was an obvious irritated sigh from that fanged mouth, but then it spoke, a raspy voice so different from what Ventus had expected.​

“… Vanitas. My name… is Vanitas.”

Its voice sounded rough. Like a person who spent too long without drinking water.

“Vanitas? That’s a cool name!” Ventus scolded himself in his thoughts. That wasn’t supposed to matter, was it? As human as its face looked, it was a creature of Darkness. A danger to them all. It would be studied and killed soon, why should he want to know anything more than how to efficiently get rid of any similar creature?

Vanitas must’ve sensed Ventus’ change in emotion, as its kind tended to do, because it curled up just a hint tighter and glared at him again, unblinking.

“So, Vanitas…” Ventus hesitantly started, not wishing to lose this tiny thread. “Why were you named that?”

“… It means emptiness.” the creature of Darkness relaxed a little bit, once more. “Or pride.”

“Pride? Because your parents were proud of you?” Ventus asked naively, forgetting who he was talking to.

“…No. We don’t have ‘parents’,” Vanitas rasped. “It’s because pride is what I like to eat.”

​The next few days, Ventus spent talking more and telling about himself, and occasionally getting the tiniest morsels of information about Vanitas. They, as Ventus learned Vanitas preferred, were born from the void – as, apparently, all shades like them were – and had originally been snacking on people’s negativity in other parts of the world.

But, recently, one of their siblings (because yes, they had those, twelve of them) wanted a change of scenery and swapped places with them.

They’d actually been tracking Ventus’ nervousness when the group of hunters caught them.

Though Ventus knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but feel bad. The creatures of Darkness were dangerous, and Vanitas seemed to be high on their power and intelligence scale, above what they called the ‘heartless,’ but Ventus could only see the fact that Vanitas clearly had their own life and goals going, even if they didn’t expose them.

Even if Ventus knew that anything from the Dark was dangerous – sucking people’s souls out of any scrap of emotion until they were nothing but hollow shells. Devoid of Heart.

“-so, we were planning to go on a trip to Twilight Town for our break in a few weeks while the other team is around, and-“

“Ventus.” Vanitas suddenly cut him off, speaking up like they never had before.

Ventus blinked. “Yes?”

“Why are you telling me about the future?”

“Uh… because I’m excited about it, I guess?”

“…”

“What about you, Vanitas? Anything you’re looking forward to?” The words left his mouth before he could think, and suddenly he wanted to shove his fist down his own throat. Idiot. Vanitas was smart.

“Why would I be excited about my upcoming execution?” Vanitas snarled. They knew what being caught was leading them to.

“I… sorry, I didn’t…” Ventus didn’t want to admit it, but he’d… forgotten. Talking to Vanitas, even if it was mostly one-sided, felt very natural. The sudden reminder that they’d caught Vanitas to kill them because they were a threat to the people was brutal.

“Then stop talking.” Vanitas bit out, hiding the lower half of their face in their knees once more, glaring at Ventus.

“Wait!” Ventus called, desperate to keep their conversation going. Vanitas was interesting! They were their own person! Even on their death row, they deserved someone to chat with!

And suddenly, that golden glare piercing through Ventus felt very, very tired.

​There had to be something Ventus could do.

He didn’t necessarily have to kill Vanitas, right? If he could just teach them not to drain people out of their emotions, to only take what they needed…

But Eraqus would never let him set them free. To him, as the master of their small shadows-hunting group, all Darkness was meant to be exterminated. No exceptions.

Not to mention, Ventus had no proof Vanitas would listen. What if they only indulged him because of the cage? If he opened it, would Vanitas kill him on the spot?

But… there’d been that thing in their eyes. Exhaustion and a tiny, tiny something Ventus couldn’t identify. He wasn’t sure if Vanitas would want to hurt him.

He didn’t know what to trust anymore. All his life he’d been raised to hunt down creatures he thought mindless, and he knew that was the case for the Heartless… but what of Vanitas and their siblings? Did they deserve to be slain thoughtlessly, too?

Ventus wasn’t sure.

One day until Vanitas would be sent away to the labs, and Ventus had made his decision.

He had spent the whole two weeks in total talking to Vanitas. Learning. Teaching, as well.

Little things, like the fact that Vanitas now avoided eye contact because that was considered the nice way to behave among their siblings. Eye contact meant checking on a threat.

Or that their range of emotions differed from the human one, and that sometimes they felt things that didn’t exist to mankind and that words couldn’t explain.

Or that the reason their specific kind had tails was for balance, because walking on sharp talons wasn’t very easy. They could actually tuck it away, because it was a very weak spot during fights.

And also, that the shifting darkness that composed most of Vanitas’ skin was actually very soft, thin fur and the patches of skin he sometimes saw was the light’s reflection on it, and that it burned a little. They even admitted that the bright, bright room they were locked in to avoid letting them reach out to the shadows was mildly painful, a little bit like rashes from a stinging nettle.

Sadly, Ventus couldn’t do anything about the latter part.

This had all culminated in Ventus’ decision. He had to act now, because time would give him no other chance.

“Vanitas,” he called out as he walked in the room that surrounded their cage.

As an answer, Vanitas lifted their head and looked at his wringing hands.

“Could I… offer something?”

“What?” Vanitas asked dryly. The way their shoulders were raised told him that they knew something would happen soon.

“Do you… mind having people around in your life?”

“What kind of question is that? Your people don’t exactly hang around us, Ventus.”

“No, no, I mean- if you were free right now, would you mind having someone… living around you?”

“What does it matter? I’m not free. I won’t be free again. I’m going to be killed soon. Don’t play dumb, Ventus, I know it.”

Ventus looked down and took a deep breath.

“Vani, I… let me be honest with you. I want to offer you something, but I don’t want you to… misinterpret my conditions.”

“I can’t exactly refuse, can I?” Vanitas snarked.

“Please, listen to me. I want to set you free-” Ventus started, and immediately felt that golden gaze snap to him. “But… only if I can stay with you. I don’t want to kill you, but I also don’t want anyone to be hurt.”

“Are you stupid? I could kill you. I could easily drag out every single of your pathetic feelings of apprehension and concern and regret,” Vanitas enumerated. “And leave you empty of anything. Why are you offering me this? You know what my kind does.”

“The same reasons you’re asking me this, I think,” Ventus spoke quietly, almost mumbling. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want… to come with you.”

“Why?!” Vanitas asked, eyes still dead set on Ventus. “What makes you think I want to deal with you?!”

“I want you to survive! I don’t… I don’t want you to die, Vanitas. I don’t hate you.”

Vanitas was silent for a moment.

As the night reached to embrace the land, two figures broke out of the house of master Eraqus, running and running and not looking back – one figure of sharp claws and talons, the other of sharp blades and wind spells. They ran and ran, into the dark, leaving everything one had known and escaping all the other had feared.

With only each other for company, they ran – braving unknowns, to learn to see the world a different way.

Together, they ran – only the two of them, and the shades to guide them.

​